


Debts

by Sixylicious



Series: Halla, Hawk, and Fox [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Return to Ostagar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixylicious/pseuds/Sixylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Warden (a female Dalish rogue, though I tried to leave it vague) and Alistair, bonding as they return to Ostagar. Practice in second person POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debts

You feel the rage bubbling up in your chest as the ruins loom ever closer on the horizon. You already know, even without looking over, that Alistair beside you wears the same expression on his face. You are the last remaining Grey Wardens and today, you are out for blood. Somewhere within those ruins- _Creators_ , it hurts to even think their name-both the King and Duncan fell in battle. Your other companions, the witch and the assassin that came with you, the bard and the Qunari back at camp, they don't understand why you have to do this. But you have to go in there, despite all the darkspawn that are surely intent on keeping you away. Duncan's body, the King's body, you can't just leave them there to be defiled! A debt is a debt and must always be paid. 

No words need to be spoken. You and your fellow Warden communicate as if by thought, cutting down genlocks and hurlocks in your way with fury in your eyes matched only by the fury of your blades. Your companions have seen you fight, but never like this, only Alistair has witnessed this. This is a bond built in a battle that nearly killed you both, that would've killed you if it hadn't been for Flemeth. And then what would Ferelden have done? You need to stay alive, to eventually find and face the Archdemon, end the Blight, but today none of that matters. All that matters now is your revenge. For Duncan, for King Cailan, for all the others that Loghain let die when he fled the field. For you and Alistair both, for closure. For _Tamlen._  

Past the war council, to the room where you underwent your Joining, the chalice lying on the ground still encrusted with darkspawn blood that you still taste on your lips in your dreams. The chalice goes into your bag, wordlessly, Alistair watching from beside you and Morrigan and Zevran from further behind. You can read the confusion on the other elf's face; he has no idea what transpired here, what this simple silver chalice possibly means.

"More ahead." The first words Alistair has spoken since you arrived. He draws a red steel sword, reclaimed from the darkspawn already and first wielded by his father, then his half-brother. It was only right, you felt, to give it to him.

A grin spreads across your face, dark and dangerous and so unlike you. It's all this place's fault. You draw your twin Dar'Misu and motion the party forward, reveling in the carnage you are about to unleash. As Dalish, you hate to kill, but these darkspawn deserve no mercy so you will give them none. You and Alistair cut them down, being sure to inflict the first and the last blows to each and every one. This is personal.

King Cailan's body greets you on the bridge to the Tower of Ishal, hung there by the darkspawn to mock the king who martyred himself for his people. You take a step forward, intent on tearing down the makeshift crucifix and rescuing the King's body, but Alistair's hand on your shoulder holds you back. Though no words are spoken, you know he is right. There are still darkspawn prowling the ruins that must be dealt with first. Then you can return to show the fallen king the respect he deserves. What would your clan think of you now, da'len, showing such emotions over a human? 

Darkspawn fill the Tower of Ishal, just like they did when you fought your way to the top to light the beacon. This time, you face them without fear, your rage and grief lending strength to your blows as you fight your way into the tower toward the tunnels. Without knowing how you know, you descend underground, knowing the battlefield awaits you on the other side. _Duncan_.

The ogre lies dead in the center of the field, a sword and dagger impaled deep into its chest. You hear Alistair's intake of breath and know he has also realized those are Duncan's, but where is his body? There is no time to search, now the ogre rises from the dead and begins to attack you. It is a difficult battle, but your grief knows no restraint and you do not feel your wounds. Finally, it is dead once more. You and Alistair reach in at the same time, you pulling Duncan's dagger from the ogre while Alistair pulls the sword. Just like that, it is decided. If this is all you're going to find of Duncan-and something tells you that this is-then this is how you will split it.

The witch and the assassin watch as you and Alistair construct the funeral pyre and lower King Cailan's body down onto it before you set it alight. You know nothing of human funerals, but surely there is something to be said for the departed king?

"Ar lasa mala revas," you murmur before you turn away, humming the only mourning song you know as you depart. Ostagar holds nothing but memories for you now.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism would be appreciated! I don't usually write in second person. I have more written about my Warden if anyone would be interested.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
